Lyrics Paychecks (Intro) - Lute

Another day, another dollar
We just tryna provide
Another day, another drama
Couple shots in the sky
'Cause every day was Fourth of July
Minus the ambulance, news, cameraman
Pan to the homicide
Look at mama cry, pray to God I see 25
Knock on wood, wood grain wheels strolling through the hood
Sitting proper like a nigga should
Gold chain with the cross like a hater jug
They like Lute, drop another mother fuckin' mixtape
You ain't got shit to prove, I got shit to do
Plus, my rent is due so I [?] I assume
You gon' pay my dues for my lease is up
Ain't got shit to prove, I got shit to do
Baby mama trippin' bout some formula
Contemplating robbing banks and hold 'em up
Fuck my 9 to 5, but my lights is on
Bright enough to write this song where I belong
Like fuck it, what's that ruckus in the trunk, bruh
Lute, where the fuck that shit that can bump, bruh?
True, all I spit is real, hope that you can feel
Whether it be my pain or how a nigga live
Now a nigga back, back up in the trap
Preciate the love, so I love you back
Even when my home ain't where the love is at
I'm just tryna feed my daughter, nigga, fuck a rap

Lord, I can't ever catch a break
I can't depend on this shit here to save me
'Cause a lately I been working up a scheme
I can't spend my life chasing no paycheck
Lord, I can't ever catch a break
I can't depend on this shit here to save me
'Cause a lately I been working up a scheme
I can't spend my life chasing no paycheck